#thats from the “I will love you letter”

[protectionsquad24601]

Lemony Snicket was canonically a cheerleader and I haven't seen a single person talk about it. The possibilities are delightful- Lemony saying cheesy rhymes in a deadpan voice?? Lemony in a cheerleader outfit in general?? Lemony getting tossed around by others more qualified to be a cheerleader?? Lemony who joined cheerleading simply because Beatrice was in soccer?

[lovesickeros]

☆ de fontaine

{☆} characters furina {☆} notes cult au, imposter au, drabble, gender neutral reader {☆} warnings angst, suicidal thoughts, hurt / no comfort {☆} word count 1.4k

This wasn't fair. This wasn't fair. This wasn't fair!

She thought, for one moment, she could put the mask down and breathe – for one moment of daydreaming, she thought she could just be Furina. She thought she would finally get to live the live she should've had in the first place, the life she threw away to play God to an audience who saw her as nothing but a circus animal, dancing to their whims. Furina just wanted to be selfish for one brief and fleeting moment..and it was gone before she could even grasp it in her hand. A comet soaring past far out of her reach.

She can barely keep her hands from violently shaking as she looks down at them – broken and bloody and more a corpse then a person – and she feels so numb she can't even feel the rain pelting against her back. None of this is fair, she wants to scream, why is it always me? But her voice is silent beneath the torrent of rain. She wonders if the ocean would take her if she sank into it's depths – just for a moment, she wonders how it would feel to finally be able to sleep at ease.

Furina is tired.

But Furina is nothing if not useful, isn't she?

So she forces her feet to move, dragging against the stone beneath her heels, and drags their bloodied body into the nearest empty building, letting the rain do the work of washing away the smeared blood following her path. The smell makes her feel sick, the feeling of it sticking to her hands and gloves makes her lightheaded, but she persists. Because Furina is useful, because Furina won't let them die out in the rain, because Furina won't stand by and just let them rot on the streets like some..pest.

Furina wants to go home. She wants to sleep and she isn't she if she wants to wake up, this time. But she keeps going anyway.

Because it's all she's ever done, and the habit sticks.

An Archon she may not be, not anymore, but the expectations of five hundred years still linger like eyes on the inside of her skull. They watch her, pry and prod at her thoughts, mocking laughter and judging eyes following her as she forces herself to dance to the song they weave with glee. Furina never stepped off that stage – she's still there, she thinks, watching the crowd stare at her in disdain as the curtain call looms above her like a guillotine. She still hears Neuvillette deliver her damnation and salvation with a trembling voice, still feels her hair stand on end when electro crackled like the crack of the whip, Clorinde's blade aimed at her like a loaded gun.

She's trapped on that stage and she never left, not really.

She hates it. She thinks she hates them, but it's not their fault. They didn't ask for this, didn't ask for everyone to turn against them, didn't ask for her to save them. Neither did she..yet here they are, she thinks.

She tries to tell herself she's in control this time, though. She can stop performing her part in this horrible, bloody play any time she wants. It makes her feel better, just for a little while, if she convinces herself she's still Furina, painfully human.

And Furina has always been good at lying.

It's the believing that's the hard part.

There isn't time for her to wallow in her own self pity, though. They're still bleeding out onto the dusty, creaky floorboards of some random, broken down house and she's just standing there as the blood stains the wood. She can fix it – she's good at fixing things. She's done nothing but fix things – try to, anyway – for five hundred years. She can fix a little wound, how hard could it be? Her hands are clenched so tight they ache as she kneels down, wincing at the creak of the floorboards beneath her heels– she hesitates just long enough to wonder if she's making a mistake before she peels away just enough of the outer layer of their clothes to see the deep, bloody gash across their chest. She tries not to think about it – it's deep, too deep, and she feels dizzy just looking at it, but she's handled worse, right?

Furina can fix it. That's what she's good at.

She doesn't feel so confident when she tries to wrack her brain for..something. Five hundred years, and a little wound stumps her? No, she had to have learned something, right? She's decidedly not trying to buy time because she's panicking, parsing through hundreds of years of memories like flipping through a book. Furina isn't made for this, not really – she's running on nothing but adrenaline and she's really not sure what she's doing, but she's trying. And just like before, it won't be enough, will it?

She'll fall short again – she'll be too late to fix it before she's alone again.

Furina was an Archon..used to be. What use would she have for that sort of knowledge? Which makes her predicament all the more harrowing and bleak. What was she supposed to do?

Furina had heard it first hand, that vitriol in Neuvillette's voice. She isn't sure she's ever heard him that..angry before. She's not sure he would listen to her if she tried, either. And that scares her more then anything. All of Fontaine was up in arms about this..imposter, yet here she was, staring down at them bleeding out in front of her, and she was trying to save them.

Why? Why is she throwing away her only chance at normalcy for a fraud? Why didn't she just turn them in?

They were dying – that should've been a good thing, shouldn't it? So why didn't it feel like it?

"Why you?" Her voice breaks as she speaks in harsh tones, grabbing the front of their shirt in trembling, bloodied hands. "Why now?" She wants to scream, to demand answers they can't give, to claw back the reprieve she was promised after five hundred years of agony..and all she can do is sob into their chest, pleading for an answer that will not come. "Why me?"

Silence is their answer, and it hangs heavy on her trembling shoulders as she cries.

Of course they don't, she thinks bitterly, no one has ever answered her pleas spoken in hushed sobs. Not her other self and certainly not them.

Furina has always been alone. Furina will always be alone.

Because Furina never left that stage, never left that moment when she looked at herself in the mirror and took up a mantle too heavy for her to bear. She always finds her way back eventually. There's no one on the other side anymore – she stands alone on a stage, waiting for an inevitable end she isn't sure will come.

"Please," She pleads through tears and choked sobs, clinging to them like they are all that keeps her from sinking. "Please don't leave me, too." The words burn on her tongue – how pathetic is she that she craves companionship from the bloodied body of the imposter? Perhaps she's truly lost her mind after all these years..perhaps she's finally gone mad. She must have.

But their presence is like the first feeling of gentle warmth upon her skin as the sun crests the horizon, like the gentle lap of tides along her heels, the sway of branches and leaves as the wind blows through them like an instrument all it's own. They are the soothing sound of rain against the window as she watches the dreary skies in fond longing, the first bloom of spring as color blooms upon the landscape like paint had been spilled across the hills and valleys.

They are like the faint spark she carefully nurtures and stokes, so fragile even the smallest wind could blow it out like a candle. She cradles it within her palms, pleads with whoever will listen – prays that someone finally listens, because if not for her, then for them.

She's failed to protect too much already, let too many people with so much trust in her fall between the cracks of her fingers like grains of sand. She won't let them go – she can't.

If nothing else, if she couldn't be saved when she begged for salvation from that five hundred year long agony, even if she never got that chance..

Furina will make sure they do.

[helluvahotmess]

'I want you to continue to be who you are.' what if i fucking died what then

[foxgirlmoth]

Actually I'm deleting the app. Peace out Tumblr, its been a hell of a decade.

Cohost, Bluesky, twitter, Steam, Twitch, and Discord are all: Windfaemaiden

Might be all lowercase on Discord, and thats the best place to reach me. After that I might be on Cohost, my Twitter is a bit dead, and bluesky is. Eh. Talk to me on steam if you wanna game.

My alt accounts here are Windfaemaiden for my art blog, and my alt blog which is 18+ is mothgirlmilk.

I might check desktop tumblr in a while but this place has become too hostile and its just painful. I met the love of my life here by talking about Metroid. I love this girl so much and the place we met has been so actively hostile I just can't be here any more and it sucks so much. I get sentimental about so many things and I'm crying over losing the place I met my wife. Fuck.

I'm gonna miss a lot of you, if we ever even exchanged a reply or dm or ask or two, I would love to hear from you in the future. If this place gets better I might even be back, who knows. So many of you have become friends and people in my circle who I love to learn about.

💕💕💕💕💕

[mcmadcanvas]

me watching reanimator: great movie! not too sure where all the shipping art comes from tho...

me watching bride of reanimator: ah, i see

[seeminglydark]

Hey um, so this is actually my first time typing anything on tumblr, partially because I only got it a couple months ago (something something healing my inner child because I only managed to secretly log into Webtoons during my younger years) and I am also a chronic lurker. Alas, it is the night hours and this, combined with listening to the first episode of Mil-Liminal has moved me to emerge, if only for a moment.

Sorry, this is strange. I am typing to someone I do not know who has written so much that is so close to my heart. Something about the first episode just really hit. Maybe it’s cause of how I can relate. Maybe it’s cause listening to it felt a little too real as if maybe you or someone you knew could relate. The thought makes me really sad but also less alone. Is that messed up?

Regardless, thank you so much for everything you make. Every success you have makes me really happy, and seeing you expand over the years to now being able to hear “Caro’s” voice after imagining it for so long- just awesome. Now if I may impose my nagging that I give to my friends upon you, please take care of yourself, make space and recognize the inherent worth you have, know that rest is necessary and you do not need to earn it, and thank you for everything you have done for the community and for all the dark times of my life you have lighted.

Hey, Hi. Even as a person who literally writes for a living, I'm always at a loss for words. Thank you. Thank you for summoning courage and coming out of the shadows for a second to send me this message. I want you to know it moved me to tears (don't worry, crying's healthy.) It's not messed up to feel less alone by listening to my stories, because you're right. Almost everything I write, I have experienced in some kinda way. That includes breaking free from control, running away, and living in my car and suddenly not knowing who the hell I even was (not from my parents though, as in Caro's case.) My writing is and has always been a way to process and express my own grief, healing, yearning, and wishing, identity, and sexuality. The fact that it can hit other people who might be going through or went through similar things actually makes it even more worth while to me. And you don't need to be sad for the things I've gone through, because it brought me here. Almost middle-aged, the bad times feel like an old nightmare I can barely remember, Breathing, Heart beating, ALIVE and with stories to tell, and if I'm lucky, some hope to share. Cuz there is hope, and don't you forget that.

Thank you again, from the very bottom of my heart. This whole message is really so special to me in the deepest most profound way possible. I want to reply to the last paragraph with something great to say, you know what I mean? Words are hard though. So instead I'll thank you again, and I'll ask that you have that same grace for yourself too, and leave you with a little drawing of a kid figuring out their life, even though they feel really lost right now, the wonderful thing about Caro's story is that we already know it's going to be ok one day. -RJ

[b4kuch1n]

blood loss edition

[waffliesinyoface]

its always funny to me when people mention the protagonist of PLA "going home" after their arceus-assigned-duty is complete.

don't you get it?

Jubilife City is your home now.

[fluxedbuds]

*twirls hair* tell us about daylight owl

it's an old minecraft rp series that starts off as like, your classic 'i found herobrine!!! (REAL)' type thing, but then shifts to be fully in-game with little to no reference to it Being a game. theres npcs with dialogue, and i mean like fully npcs, theres no other players involved as far as I know

The main focus of the story is these two dipshits brothers accidentally unearth a demon and it immediately causes mass chaos. It's pretty high-fantasy lorewise, with elves and dwarves and such. Prophecies. Ghosts. yknow

actually getting into why im still kind of insane abt it would require spoiling. basically everything lmao. but a large part of it is there's some secondary characters I find really compelling, and the relation the brothers have to the world itself is surprisingly complicated. it DOES feature some very heavy 'good vs evil, black & white' type themes, but taking that apart is something I find fun to do, and it fits pretty naturally into the story itself (although I suspect that was on accident)

Fair warning though, the finale is. Bad. It's so bad that it made me rewrite the entire ending. Like, its kind of insulting how bad it tanks itself at the very last second. I admire the dedication to finishing it even after literal years of delay, but it also means I can't recommend the series in good faith without adding a disclaimer like this, so

[bananielle]

VIVI i had a mental breakdown when i came back to silently stalk people again and i didn't see you anymore with your old url omg 😭😭 so glad to have found you again i hope you've been doing well with everything including life, studies, writing, and more !! 🥰🥰

I’M SORRY I MADE YOU PANIC MY LOVE �� i’m also so sorry for not following you first omg :( i can’t believe i forgot (feel free to never live that down and be mad at me forever)

i miss you sooo much! 💓 thank you sm for the sweet words (ﾉ´ з `)ノ 💝💝 giving you a ton of forehead kisses right now!! >.< i hope you’re doing well too, lovely 💘 in every aspect of life!! 🌸

[dayurno]

pacing around my room motioning widely towards my pinboard and when you look at it its just this chart of me trying to figure out the kerejean dynamics of the fic im planning

[monards]

i know hoyo is setting up rhine to have good intent and whatever in her trying to 'save' khaneri'ah or whatever; but i REALLY hope they stay with the cruel persona thats been built up for her. because it would be so wonderful to see a character who had good intent in the beginning just get absolutely corrupted; with the inability to ever go back to that prior state purely because of what had happened. also because there is NO way in her turning back after all that shit

[blorboindulgence]

the dilemma of wanting to draw the fluffy ending of motive 5: death puzzles + kaito and maki's reaction in the distance vs having to look up pictures of people kissing to then draw people kissing (ewwwwww!!! yuckie!!!!)

[bmpmp3]

dysgraphic artiƨts risɘ UP!!!!!

[transcicle]

who up getting autistic over a podcast theyve never seen

more under cut idk if theyll format or not... beware

some of these i just did some of these are old

some of these are the drawing style thing i did sooo.... in order... : FIRST THROUGH FOURTH IMAGE peter drew those :-) FIFTH rumi drew that one :-) SIXTH exandroth drew those :-) SEVENTH peter drew that one :-) self portait EIGHTH rumi [bad at art edition] both NINE and TEN i dont remember if they were ment to be peter or just me goofin... so picjk ur poison LOL ELEVEN thats peter LAST THREEEE meeeeee :3 9-10 and 12-14 are the older ones everything else i did last night / this mornin'

[crunchycrystals]

i dont think the fall guy is the best movie ive ever seen or even my favorite. but by god is it the most meaningful to me bc it inspired me to write again after a horrible depression writing slump